


you hold all the cards

by ap23



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 23:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4282296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap23/pseuds/ap23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My second attempt at fan fiction and writing.  I've been inspired by all the great works on here.<br/>Set after S1 E10.  Franky and Erica are the key characters but other characters will appear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you hold all the cards

_Shit!_   was the only word that came into Erica's mind as she clung desperately to the corner wall in her office. It was the only thing stopping her from crashing to the floor. Her chest heaving against her designer blue satin shirt, Erica stood stunned, frozen in the moment, mortified that she had let her guard down.  Her heart pounding so hard that she could hear the drumming sound vibrate through to her ears, her chest tightening with every fractured breath. Her body trembled as every muscle was wound up tighter than a jack in a box on its last crank ready to burst out of its constricted box. Erica actually thought she might be having a heart attack.   _How did that happen? how did she let it happen?_  
  
There was no denying she had fantasised about Franky kissing her, touching her, caressing her body, ravishing her in the cells, on her desk, shit she even imagined it in the shower blocks, but they were just thoughts, just a crazy fantasy.  Oh fuck but now what, maybe she imagined it, maybe it was another fantasy. The hammering of her heart against her chest, not to mention the uncomfortable throbbing between her legs made it all too clear that it was not in her imagination.    
  
_Breath Erica, breath and think. Just think._ She told herself.

 _You can handle this.  You can always report it, throw Franky in the slot for attacking the governor. Everyone knows Franky has a temper, and could lash out at any second. She could easily say that, and no one would question it, would they?   Then what, what would that achieve? Knowing some of the guards they would have just said it was her own fault that she gave the women too much leeway.   Fletch would have a field day if he found out,  she could just hear it now, ' you can’t give the women too much rope, there’s a reason there here in this prison, don’t try to get to  know the prisoners,  your here for a job and that job is to keep them in line not to pander to them.  I won’t say I told you so but.....'_  
  
How she hated that bloody phrase, I told you so.  It just reminded her of her damn mother always advising her on the right path to take to succeed in life, sculpturing her to be perfect mirror image of herself. Heaven forbid she should deviate from that path and try something new, and it not go according to plan....like being pushed up against the wall in her office and kissed by a prisoner.    
  
That kiss. Erica cautiously and slowly released her iron clasped grasp from the wall, her heart still beating erratically against her chest as she gently traced her bottom lip with her index finger, swollen and still burning hot from that kiss. That kiss, filled with such pent up frustration, passion and surprisingly affection all rolled into one delectable and forbidden package.  
  
That damn kiss. She fought so hard against it, she really did at first, but it felt so good.  She could slap herself for letting herself get caught up in the unguarded moment. Just the thought of Franky pressed against her, thrusting her hips against her, pushing her thumb on her throat with just enough pressure to control the situation but not enough to cause any discomfort, pressing her wet hot lips hard onto hers sent an excitable electric current through Erica’s stomach downwards to between her thighs igniting a tingling sensation in every single nerve ending she had down there.    
  
_Shit. Stop Erica, what are you doing? Don’t get distracted. That’s how you got yourself into this mess, you let yourself get distracted. Maybe it’s a midlife crisis, oh yeah good try Erica you’ re nowhere near a midlife crisis. Just need to think, think about the next step,_   but Franky always made it hard to think,  with that cocky the devil won’t mind smile and mischievous twinkle in her eye, that screamed do you want to play, c’mon lets go have some fun, you know you want to.  

  
Erica couldn’t suppress a weak smile as she thought about those eyes, those green eyes that bore right through her, coupled with that cocky snarl, god she was a charmer, such a player.  
The thought struck her like a wrecking ball into her consciousness. _Oh my god, she’s a player, have I just been played? What if this is all part of a big game for Franky, to occupy her time, kill the hours in prison, a new toy that once you unwrap it get would bored and toss it aside ready for the next plaything._ The thrill is always in the chase never the capture, her mother used to warn her whenever a boy would call the house.

  
_What if she runs and tells the other women_. Erica lets out a gasp at the next horrifying thought; her knees begin to tremble. _What if this was this part of a bet, a sick perverted bet. The women bet on everything in prison.  What if Erica was nothing more than a pawn, the piece you sacrifice to get the ultimate prize._ _What would Franky have won, what would kissing the governor in her own office be worth, a packet of biscuits, cigarettes, or maybe just bragging rights in the yard._   

The sheer thought that she had been played, let herself be played, made her feel sick to the stomach.   The sick feeling in her stomach was quickly followed by a wave of anger _Damn you Franky Doyle damn you._   

Erica straightened her back, and shook her head clear of the thoughts, her auburn hair flicking against her cheeks and against her very tense shoulders.  

 _Snap out of it Erica,_ she told herself, _imagine you’re in court, law 101, the best defence is an good offence._


End file.
